𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟎𝟏 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐗𝐗

• 20 •

At multiple high points in my life did I wonder how things might possibly go wrong. They're those times when everything's going great and I can't think of any stupid ways to mess my situation up. Follow the rules, live with peace. It's basic. It's fucking simple. How the hell can things get so fucked without you intending to fuck them up? If only I knew the answer to this, I wouldn't be sprinting down a hallway in Keenan Travino's mansion, little feet eager to keep up with one Adil Essa's long strides of dismay.

Jessica had left after snitching. Keenan was composed as always when he regarded me and Adil with somber eyes, focus lingering longer on me. We didn't have words for one other. Nobody talked. Whatever Jessica revealed was confirmed by my quietness alongside Keenan's. That's when Adil recreated a tamer version of Slater's walk-out. He wasn't walking out due to anger. It seems that he was leaving out of self-respect.

"Adil," I called out, still meters away. The man descended the stairs and I followed, "Hey," I tried again. All I could do was sight at his lack of response. I couldn't blame him.

As I took one step at a time, I called his name again and again. "Adil, wait," the man landed on the foyer. For a last move of desperation, I threw myself over four steps, quietly thanking the heavens when I didn't injure my ankles. I must look crazy. Silly, even. My hand came down on Adil's shoulder and with a sigh, he turned.

"Look," he began before I could, "I'm sorry for telling Keenan. I'll call Jessica and tell her that he found out because of me, okay? The blame's for me."

"I don't care about that," I said to Adil. The secret's out and whoever Jessica blames is not going to change shit, "I don't give a fuck about Jessica and Slater. Adil, I'm sorry."

That apology was more than just an apology. It was another confirmation. I received a smile from Adil and it wasn't like his usual roguishly appealing ones. It was sad and forgiving, and it was enough to make me feel a physical throb in my chest, one that had me wanting to bash my head against a pole.

"It's fine, Gia," he told me. The tenderness in his voice, the forgiveness in his tone, the droop of his shoulders—they were enough to make me regret whatever the hell happened two nights ago. "Seriously, it's fine. He's Keenan Travino, the hell do I have against that?"

At Adil's words, I found myself shameful of all the times I ever compared the two. I stared at Adil—really stared at Adil. Is it possible that I gave this man a new insecurity? looking through his dark brown eyes, I searched for myself when Janella was first introduced. But then again, why would I compare myself to Jan? why did I ever compare myself to Jan? because I like Keenan. There, I said it: I like Keenan Travino and it seems to me that this isn't some overnight thing. I've liked that man the day I met him. I like Keenan but that does not mean that I get to do anything with whatever I feel towards him. Especially when two minutes ago was the last I'll ever see of him.

I'm back to the start. Adil is the only option. The world gives me a nice guy for once and I fuck things up with my dumb hormones. Keenan was right—I'm dumb. He makes me dumb. Now that I won't be seeing that fucker anymore, I can only hope to regain my wits. An apology for Adil is the bare minimum. Had the tables turned, this man, from how I know him, would do his best for redemption.

"And don't worry," he began again, "You cheated on no one. We weren't together. I was just stupid to think that we kinda were."